Sunday, 11/10/02 - 2:21 pm.
Good Lord, can you believe there are 51 users who have listed "Areosmith" as a favorite band? Do you imagine how cool it'd be if they joined the Aerosmith fan list instead?
I bet you do.
I just signed in on the MSN messenger. I mean, I saw myself sign in, because I added myself. It's dumb that they let you, because you can't even send yourself a message. So there I am, and no else is on. Makes me wonder if I'm the only one who has a "0 day" -like Cel calls it-. The day that resembles the leftover no one will eat, and so it remains....there. Just there. Wasting a spot in space and time.
But actually, I got some things accomplished this morning. I had accomplished more today at 10 o'clock am than yesterday at 9 o'clock pm. And most likely, I'll get back to entertaining myself with cleaning up my room after I'm done with this bitching.
See, if I weren't bitching here about how much sundays suck, I'd be cleaning up my room, distracted with cleaning up, not even thinking today sucks.
It's all about perspective.
When I woke up this morning, I started to think of him. But I thought too much. And I panicked. And....I really don't want to talk about this anymore.
Cannabis.
Bad trip.
Mobile device.
Order.
Association.
Channel 23.
Change.
What's this?
Yay you.
Pills.
Fork.
Steven is so small.
Said.
Position 7.
Plastic.
Whore.
Air.
Put back.
Chew.
I like those.
Rag.
Boxes.
Days like today don't make sense.
I think I'll get back to self-mutilation. But this time, it's for pure entertainment. Well, and also because he's a slut and I love him and he's not helping at all and I love him.
Send a message to mobile device.
What I wanted to say: YOU'RE A FUCKIN' BASTARD! I LOVE YOU! DAMN YOU!
What I ended up saying: Hey, that saturday show is celebrating 40 years. But it went downhill since the host became a nasty pig.
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